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‘Cheeky but I’ll forgive him that,’ Carmel says.
Very cute xx
‘Ask him if he meant you or the cubs?’ Sally says.
‘Send him a fox emoji and then a heart?’ Carmel suggests.
But I sit there smiling, exhaling a huge sigh of relief. The ice has been broken. He’s not angry. He’s not ignoring me. There will have been a good reason he didn’t message back. I stand up so they can’t see what I type next but they both stand there arm-in-arm, beaming at me.
Still on for tomorrow?
Sure thing. Will the foxes be joining us? I don’t know what foxes eat.
It’s Christmas. Pigs in blankets and mince pies.
I’ll get some in. Can’t wait x
Ditto x
I hold my phone to my chest, unable to contain the giantsmile creeping across my face and the three of us jump up and down in a circle, holding arms, the foxes squawking at us as the door of the cottage opens. Jasper and Miles stand by the door, looking in.
‘What on earth?’ Jasper says, exasperated. Miles can’t help but smile though.
‘Leo texted back, Leo texted back,’ Carmel tells him, clapping with excitement.
He shakes his head at me.
‘And you knew the whole time?’ I ask him. ‘That he liked me?’
‘Possibly. Please tell me those aren’t foxes in that basket…’ he tells me.
‘Yes. That naughty one is called Jasper,’ I say, pointing to the one who bit me.
‘Then he’s my favourite,’ he says, smiling.
NINETEEN
‘You will come and stay again, yes? You must come and stay. Bring Leo and Frank too!’ Carmel tells me as I stand by Miles’s Land Rover so he can take me to the train station. She embraces me so very hard and I feel all of it, all of that love for someone she hardly knows. I stand there in front of their super grand house and look up at it one last time.
‘Please thank Sally and everyone for their hospitality, I’ve really enjoyed myself,’ I tell her. I’m not even lying. One day, I can return to that fox story and tell my children about it. It was my one day of activism. I can embellish it and say dogs were chasing us and I nearly died. It will be a memory I hold on to forever. A figure appears at the door and waves over to me and I head over.
‘Miss Maggie,’ Philip the head butler says, bowing his head. I will never get used to that, ever. ‘The ladies in the kitchen prepared some sandwiches and biscuits for your trip. Thank you for the cards and chocolates – very kind,’ he says.
‘My pleasure, I’m sorry it wasn’t more,’ I say, going to hug him. His shoulders are stiff as a board but he relents,slightly patting me on the back. ‘Are you working over Christmas?’ I ask him.
‘Oh, Mrs Knights has given us free rein over the house while the family are away,’ he says, smirking. I picture Philip with a bottle of brandy in hand, sliding down the staircase in his pants on a silver tea tray.
‘Then enjoy. Have a lovely Christmas, Philip.’
A car horn sounds and Jasper winds down the passenger-side window. ‘Come on, Maggie. You’ll miss your train otherwise,’ he shouts, and I jog over to the car, waving to all as I do. What a place, what an afternoon. After our eventful morning saving nature, we went back to the house, Jasper cooked me breakfast with endless rounds of toast and tea, and I spent an afternoon luxuriating in the confines of that house. I had a bath in a tub with brass feet and massage settings, I sat in the drawing room with a fire and played (and beat) Jasper in chess. But I also partook in their early Christmas celebrations before they all left to get ready for their ski trip tomorrow. I watched as extended family and friends filtered in and out of that place, I shook their hands, learned their names, watched them receive and exchange gifts and ate my weight in roast potatoes and Christmas cake. It was the most restful, glorious, festive way to spend an afternoon.
As Miles drives out of the estate, I watch the moonlight filter through the trees that line the drive. I don’t know if Cressida will allow it but I do hope that I get to return here very soon.
‘What time is your flight tomorrow?’ I ask both of them.
‘Six in the morning,’ Miles says. ‘From Heathrow.’
I picture the both of them skiing together, in matching skiwear and enjoying raclette in the Alps in a lodge, happy. It’s a scene that fills me with a lot of joy.
